Loves first kiss.

I was reading a post recently about a first kiss.
(I have tried and failed to find the blog to credit),
and since then I have found myself reminiscing.

I was a young eleven year old,
when playing hide and seek at a party,
the geekiest boy in the world,
made for my great hiding place under the table.
Despite me hissing at him,
and spreading myself out to leave no room,
he ignored my body language and barged in.

As we sat there listening to the sounds,
of all the others being caught,
I became aware of his proximity to me.
I looked over at him to hiss once more,
and that is when I felt it.
Like a wet sponge or a large dog licking,
he made a dive for my face,
and in hindsight I realised I had had my first kiss!.
Gross.
The memory to this day has not faded.

I flew out of that hiding place,
and happily lost my game of hide and seek.
Kissing was off the menu for me.

Then many years later came loves first kiss.
As some of you know,
I was holidaying in Cyprus when I met my husband.
Myself and six trainee nurses.
He had caught my eye.
Sadly for all the wrong reasons.

He and his milky white skinned brother,
were to be seen most days,
with a million bottles of sun cream around them.
Factor 60 for the face, 30 for their legs,
and sun block for those translucent feet.
Then after all that suncreaming,
they sat in the shade, just in case they got sunburn!

However as days passed,
we exchanged glances and the odd conversation.
I began to orchestrate “bumping into him”.
The cool, I don’t run after men, Tric,
was quietly stalking him.
Chemistry causing my heart to beat faster.

Eventually he plucked up the courage,
and one night he asked me out.
We headed off together,
I sitting on the back of a moped.

However as I said he was different,
so on this our first date,
his brother came too!

We had a great night,
and eventually ditched his brother.
The night was drawing to an end,
and both of us were quieting,
the air between us electric,
as we anticipated our first kiss.

And just like that it happened.
Almost immediately I felt it.
“True love” you say,
Chemistry exploding?
Sadly no.
Within seconds my recently eaten dodgy dinner,
came back to haunt me.
Now when I say “came back”,
that is exactly what I mean.

I broke loose and ran.
Shouting “don’t come after me please”.
I made it around the corner,
and lost my dinner.

I was horrified.
Casually I returned to my date,
and did not refer to what had happened,
only saying “I think I better go back to the girls”.
He drove me back,
and with barely a “Goodnight”,
I left him.

Thankfully he did decide to come back the next day,
and the rest as they say is history!

My first kiss was at the age of 15 (almost 16). I was camping with my mom and there was this Canadian boy – I think he was 14. We rode bikes together and he taught me to skip rocks. Then he asked if he could ask to kiss me. I said yes so then he asked if he could kiss me. So I said yes again and he finally kissed me. Then he got all huffy when I wouldn’t let him french kiss me and that was that. I’ve met a lot of friendly Canadians (living very close to the border) but I think he still wins for friendliest! Lol

Great story! My wife also barfed shortly after our first kiss. She ALSO blamed a dodgy dinner! Hmmmm….

My first (proper) kiss was amazing. It was at high school, I must have been 13, it was valentine day. A girl I had never noticed before came up to me, took me by the back of the neck and planted a hot, squidgy, lingering kiss on my lips.

She walked away giggling, blushing, stopping only to turn around and give me the cheekiest smile. I was blown away. My heart raced, my knees went weak. Speechless.

I spent the next few days trying to find out who she was. Unfortunately I saw her only once more again. I was in a car with my MUM (not cool) and I saw her on the pavement. I never saw her again. She left the County apparently.

If you are reading this, Tara Beale, I want to thank you for teaching me the power of a kiss.

Strangely, I don’t remember my first proper kiss – as opposed to having to kiss my aunties when leaving family gatherings

I suppose though it would have been with my first proper girlfriend, at a party in Lisburn on the 12th July many years ago – just before ‘The Troubles’ began – when I was around 15 yr old.

That I don’t remember much about the kiss is probably because it was overshadowed that night by running for my life through the streets of Belfast, heading for the station to catch the train back to Bangor, pursued by a bunch of enraged Protestants, because one of my mates had yelled a Fenian jibe as we passed a street where a load of ‘orangemen’ were gathered round a bonfire 😳

I remember going on a swim trip with the Irish team. I spent three weeks enjoying the company of a certain northern protestant. On arrival home he told me we could not even talk if we met at galas as his nan and parents would not approve. You were lucky you escaped!